


Shades of Draenor: Leap of faith

by Cazadora, Shaliara



Series: A path of sun and bones [4]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Death Knight, Draenor, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Priest, Siblings, Warcraft Lore, World of Warcraft: Warlords of Draenor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26960815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cazadora/pseuds/Cazadora, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaliara/pseuds/Shaliara
Summary: “The Iron Docks?” the priest asked, focused on the people now entering the fortress.“The Blackrock Foundry,” Junre corrected him, and it made Kale look at him with a more serious stance.(Set approximately 8 months into the Draenor Campaign)
Relationships: Female Blood Elf | Elves/Male Blood Elf | Elves (Warcraft), Junre/Kalethis Moonspear, Junre/Nyquist Duskfeather (past), Male Blood Elf | Elves/Male Blood Elf | Elves (Warcraft)
Series: A path of sun and bones [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542976
Kudos: 2





	Shades of Draenor: Leap of faith

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Laireshi for her beta <3

Kalethis jumped when he heard the Garrison’s horn, needing a second to remember this particular one announced the arrival of a Horde group, and not an invasion like the one almost a week ago.

“Are you waiting for someone?” Leena asked, looking up from her book, probably referring to the fact that he had gotten up. Kale composed himself and nodded.

“Yeah, could be. I’m going to check.”

He walked out of the building and straight to the gates, greeting the soldiers and workers along the way, most ready to head to the tavern to have dinner and then head to the barracks to sleep. That night, as it was usual in Frostwall, was cold and humid, which felt unkind to the priest’s wound on his back. It had almost healed, but it still bothered him when he bent or when it was too cold. At the very least, he could take comfort in the fact that the dagger wasn’t poisoned. That’s always a kind detail when it comes to assassination attempts.

“You know, they probably have their own healer.”

Kale turned to the familiar voice and saw Junre sitting on a crate as he sharpened his blade, smiling at him sarcastically.

“You better not cut yourself with that blade,” the priest spoke as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, mockingly, “because I won’t be healing you.”

“Very well,” he sheathed his sword and walked next to him, hands behind his back. “I will be asking Gorgrond’s team priestess, then.”

“Gorgrond? That’s the arriving group?” Kalethis couldn’t help but smile broadly.

“That’s what I heard, and it seems our group will be moving soon, too.”

“The Iron Docks?” the priest asked, focused on the people now entering the fortress.

“The Blackrock Foundry,” Junre corrected him, and it made Kale look at him with a more serious stance.

“I guess it’s time for us to strike back at them.”

“Kale!” someone shouted from within the group, startling both men.

Suddenly, a young elf with red hair jumped on the priest, almost sending both to the floor. Kalethis grunted as he felt the pain bolt from his wound up his spine, but still hugged him tightly.

“Are you alright? I heard about the attack! Did they hurt you?”

“Akers, calm down, I’m fine.” Kalethis smiled. “This is Junre, of the Ebon Blade. He happens to be the one who saved my life the other day.”

“Oh.” He raised an eyebrow, but shook Junre’s hand. “I thank you for that.”

“Nice to meet you,” the Death Knight politely said. “Kalethis told me about you.”

“Typical, I leave for a month and he badmouthes me,” he joked, scratching the back of his head.

“And how are you,” his brother asked, concerned. “I haven’t heard from you since you left, have you been alright?”

“Yeah, it’s been sort of hot and humid… and gianty. But we are preparing an assault on Blackhand’s foundry. The Iron Horde’s military resides there, together with their weaponry. If we succeed, we might shorten this mess drastically.”

“We?” Junre asked. “Aren’t we supposed to relieve you in Gorgrond?”

“No, we need a bigger team for this. Even thirty, from what I heard.”

Akers was almost right. Twenty seven champions ventured inside the Blackrock Foundry a week later aiming for the Blast Furnace, one of the Iron Horde’s best kept secrets and an asset that could rebalance the war in Azeroth’s favor. Kalethis ran his hand over his forehead, drenched in sweat. The heat in the Slagworks was so thick it made it difficult for him to breathe properly, and the burnt particles flying around made him and his mates cough far too often. Still, despite the awful conditions they were fighting in, Gruul had fallen. The giant’s corpse who in another timeline had the title of Dragonkiller now laid on the ground with diverse party members resting on it. An unnecessary mockery, in the priest’s opinion, but he was too weary to complain. The encounter ended without casualties, which was invigorating, but two warriors and a mage had been hit hard and would be unable to continue with their mission. The rest, however, were merely catching their breaths before venturing deeper into the depository.

“Here.”

Kale turned and saw Junre, who offered him his water skin.

“You gave all of yours to those warriors, didn’t you?” the Death Knight’s smile was sort of tender, which made the priest chuckle in a sigh.

“They needed it more than me. And you will as well, but thank you.”

Junre’s expression hardened a bit, his hand still tended to the priest.

“You promised to take care of yourself.”

“I did not,” Kalethis joked, accepting the water skin nonetheless. “I will, simply because I prefer to see you smile.”

The other man chuckled and shook his head. Kale took a sip, enough to keep himself hydrated without leaving Junre without any water left, and returned the skin.

“Seriously, though… Thanks for looking after me.”

“Anytime,” Junre replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. Kalethis grinned inside. They had talked more ever since the attack on the Garrison, and they got along quite well. There was something about the Death Knight that the priest found extremely attractive, and not just how handsome he could find him, but about who or how he was. He had initially assumed it was the air of mystery surrounding him, his curiosity about a quiet man. However, he had now spent more time with him, and that charm didn’t get lost. In fact, it grew.

“Will you check this out?” Akers interrupted them by waving his hand in front of their faces.

“Are you done defiling that corpse?” Kale scolded him. “If you got hurt while scavenging it I want to hear none of it.”

“I believe he is referring to the ring,” Junre pointed out.

“Why would a beast with fingers the size of a goblin have elven fitting rings?” the younger Moonspear laughed, completely amused, going quiet when he noticed neither of the other men were really following. “Anyways, we are moving forward. Don’t stay behind.”

“Actually…” Junre spoke when he left. “I was wondering if you could check my leg. I didn’t think it was anything serious, but it’s bothering me and I don’t want to end up being a drag for the group.”

“Of course. I guess you want me to...?” 

Junre nodded before Kalethis could finish the question. He wished to be healed with the Light, and since it seemed like a minor injury, Kalethis accepted. “Alright, why don’t you sit over there, against the crates?”

The Death Knight complied and the priest kneeled beside him, then proceeded to check the wounded leg. Gruul’s hook must had gone really close to Junre. Not enough to do any serious damage, quite fortunately, but still close enough to cut through the fabric of his trousers and his skin.

“It’s not very deep, but it certainly must hurt. Although the healing will be much more painful...”

“My main concern is not having the wound distract me in the next battle. Don’t worry, I can withstand the pain.”

Kalethis almost believed his assuring smile, but he knew better. He knew it would daze Junre and leave him feeling sick for a bit. But, somehow, he felt he had as many reasons to do as he asked as to do just the opposite.

“Alright, I’ll do it slowly.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t want to hinder our quest.”

The priest chuckled as he looked around.

“The whole team already left without us, I doubt they’ll notice our absence. They can handle themselves.” He grinned, carefully cleaning the injury.

“Kalethis Moonspear leaving an entire group without a healer. Who are you?” Junre joked, but it left the priest thinking. Because, for some reason, he was setting his priorities quite different from his usual standards. For some reason, he felt he had to take care of the Death Knight, especially after the assault on the Garrison. He was far from helpless, quite the opposite, and he wasn’t asking for it either. But Kale felt he had to be near him, just like he had been near his brother when he learned he was a Death Knight. And even so, this was different.

“Well, you picked the magic, I pick the ways.” He waved off the joke, placing a hand between Junre’s head and the crate to grant him some comfort. “Try to relax, and close your eyes if it helps with sickness.”

Ever so gently, he began brushing the cut with two fingers, casting a bright spell that healed the wound. Kale could imagine the burning agony he was causing on the Death Knight, even if he hadn’t felt him tense up or take a deep breath as he leaned back on his hand. He heard him swallow hard and frowned. He wanted it to be over as soon as possible, but he didn’t want to rush the healing and end up hurting Junre even more. It took barely ten seconds, but it felt like minutes to him.

“I’m sorry.... I mean, it’s done,” the priest announced, gently stroking the recently healed wound to help dissipating the pain. 

“Well, it wasn’t that bad,” the Death Knight spoke, eyes closed. “I just need a moment.”

“Take your time,” Kalethis said, softly, as he held his head in the most comfortable way he could.

“Thank you.” His breathing began softening and he opened his eyes. The priest helped him stand up and he took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m ready to go.”

Kalethis released his grip, but still kept a hand on his back in case he was still dazed, but he was, indeed, recovered. Still, if it weren’t for the comforting slight smile he had given Kale, he wouldn’t have deemed it worth it.

“Come, if we make haste we might join them before they arrive to the depository.”

The priest nodded and they both headed out of Gruul’s lair, returning to the crossroads that happened through hanging metallic platforms above their ultimate goal: the Blast Furnace.

“I believe the depository is right ahead.” Kalethis pointed to the entrance right in front of them. “This place is a huge mess.”

“We can just follow the trail of-”

The Death Knight went silent and swiftly turned around. The rambling of the furnace thundered so loud they hadn’t noticed someone had followed them: Gruul.

“Fall back!” Junre barked at Kalethis, who ran across the bridge and to the middle platform. The Death Knight unsheathed his blade as the moribund giant used his remaining strength to try and smash the two elves.

The priest opened his arms and conjured a holy shield around them, a bright shell that felt solid when Gruul’s fist crashed against it. It made him step back, and Kalethis took the chance to blow the shell into a bright flash that blinded the giant. Junre used the opportunity to strike, slashing both of his legs, which unbalanced the already stunned beast and made him fall to his knees and inevitably forward, threatening to crush the Death Knight, who had already turned around to run away. 

“Junre!” Kale extended a hand to him, casting a ray of light that pulled the Death Knight in the air, golden wings impulsing him away from the giant, who slammed on the platform. The entire structure trembled, inevitably affecting the priest. Due to this, he miscalculated and Junre ended up landing on him, both of them meeting the floor.

“Oof! I’m sorry, I…” Kalethis opened his eyes and couldn’t continue, for the Death Knight was over him, his face closer to his than it ever had.

“Kale, it’s neither the time nor place for this.” He ironically smiled. The priest, however, was left speechless, trying hard not to stare at his lips at the same time as he avoided eye contact. He thanked the furnace, though, since the extreme heat was probably concealing his sudden blush. 

With enviable agility, Junre got up, which made Kale knock himself out of his thoughts. He accepted the knight’s hand and stood up too.

“Are you alright?” the man asked, dusting the dirt off the priest’s tunic. “You seem shaken.”

“It’s just the temperature,” Kale lied. “Do you think he’s dead now?”

Junre turned to the giant, and doing so made the whole platform crack. Before he could tell the priest to run, the bridge connected to Gruul’s lair collapsed together with the body, almost sending both men over the railings. They heard a loud bang below.

“I’m certain...”

“We should probably get off this platform before it goes down as well,” Kalethis urged, and they both went for the safety of solid ground.

“Look, corpses. They went this way indeed,” Junre pointed out, but knelt before a creature. “Wait, this isn’t an orc.”

Kalethis approached another one and saw what he meant. “These are goren. They must have taken over the depository to feed on the blackrock ore. Funny, it seems we are not the only ones bugging Blackhand.”

“They might seem helpful, but these beasts will feast on us if given the chance.”

Junre readied his weapon and signalled the priest to remain close.

“Given how much ore the Iron Horde has this place must be plagued with them,” Kalethis observed. “I’ll watch your back. We will find more.” 

Their steps echoed through the rocky halls as they moved through, which certainly gave away that they were coming to anyone in it. But, on the other hand, it alerted them when four creatures came rolling around them like oversized stone-made armadillos. But a lot lot hungrier. The four goren surrounded them, showing their huge sharp teeth in a mocking smile that characterized them. Junre and Kale remained still, back to back, as they analyzed the situation.

“I can take care of two,” the priest spoke, staff ready.

“Are you sure?”

“These muscles aren’t to show off.”

“They come!”

Two goren jumped on them first. Kale used his staff to block the strike and throw the beast against a wall. To prevent the other two from taking them with their guards down, he leaned forward and screamed with an unearthly voice, leaving the goren terrified in their places. Kalethis raised his weapon as he began casting and meanwhile, Junre charged at a second creature, efficiently taking it down. A blast of holy fire rained on another, leaving it no time to acknowledge it’s fate. The last one screamed in panic and attempted to run away, but the Death Knight moved his hand to him, ready to pull him back.

“Let him go,” Kale asked him. “I don’t think he’s coming back, and we've already lost too much time.”

“Fair enough. Although I must say I’m impressed. It seems I underestimated you.”

“As fierce as they might seem, goren are easily defeated,” the priest waved off as they wandered deeper into the hall. “Unless you mean you thought all I could do was healing.”

“I believe I haven’t seen you do otherwise.”

“I mostly served as a battle priest in the past. I try to adapt to what it is required from my skills.”

“Perhaps we should try our luck some time and go on our own out there,” Junre thought out loud, and the priest blushed again.

“I’d love too… I mean, we do make a good team.”

They finally reached the depository and the rest of their team, who had pretty much ended the infestation of goren the foundry seemed to have. There was a particularly big one on the floor, seemingly the leader. Akers ran towards them like a fury.

“Where in Draenor where you?! You had me dead worried!”

“Probably too busy making out!” someone in the group shouted, making everyone else laugh.

“... What?” Akers asked.

“Since you all seem well enough to laugh and joke, how about you move your asses and we get to the damn furnace?” the priest barked, ending the murmurs this way. “And by the way, make sure that damn goren is dead for real, because Gruul wasn’t and almost killed us.” He turned to his brother with a cold gaze. “That’s why we stayed behind.”

The sun still felt quite warm, but it could be considered freezing compared to the extreme temperatures around the damned furnace. They managed to take down the fire elemental that powered it, disabling one of the Iron Horde’s weak spots. Alas, as it happens, not everyone made it out of the Foundry. Kalethis himself was fine, and more importantly for him: Akers was, and so was Junre. The three, together with sixteen others, retreated after their strike with their skins almost intact, and there was little time to rest, for they still needed to plan their assault on Blackhand himself. But for that day, they had done enough.

They set up camp to the west, close enough to keep the fortress in sight, but hidden from their enemies, off a beach behind the cliffs. The first thing the priest did was heading for the ocean with demanding urgency, for he needed to wash off more than the dirt. The blood from those he couldn’t save had dried all over his hands, and he wanted to physically take off that day as soon as possible. Being as he was, he also dragged Akers by the arm, refusing to let him go to bed without washing every last hair on his head first. He agreed in the end, but only because, as he told his brother, he wanted to speak in private.

“Is this private enough?” Kale asked as he washed his hands before soaking his hair. Some other party members took the chance to take a bath as well, among them Junre, which seemed to unnerve Akers.

“If he wasn’t already naked, I’d say you are undressing him with your eyes.”

“What did you say?” the priest turned to him, fulminating him with his stare.

“Don’t play innocent with me. I heard the rumors, and I saw you myself, you’ve been eyeing him all day long!”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware I had to ask  _ you _ for permission to check out a guy! But since it seems to be the case, I’ll have you know: nothing happened between us. And I’ll tell you something else: yes, I like him. A lot. And I was stupid enough to think I could come up to you and tell you about it.”

“Kalethis,” Akers grabbed his arms, speaking more calmly as if his brother needed to be brought back to his senses. “He is a Death Knight. You know what we are, what we did. You deserve better, don’t drag your last experience--”

“Screw you, Akers.” Kale pushed him back, deeply hurt. “You don’t get to play that card with me. Ever. And if there’s anyone here placing his insecurities on someone else, that’s you.”

“Kale, please.” The younger sibling took him by the arm again to prevent him from leaving. “I’m not trying to hurt you, I’m only trying to protect you!”

“I can take care of myself.”

Releasing himself from his grip, the priest turned around and left the water. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially his brother, so as soon as he got to the camp he packed himself into his sleeping bag, skipping dinner and any possible conversation. Tiredness did its job and soon he fell into the land of dreams, where everything that happened that day mixed together, and he saw himself back at Blackrock Foundry, as his leap of faith pulled Junre from across the room and ended up with him on top of the priest. In his dream, however, all of their teammates were around them, too. And in his dream, Junre smiled at him before cutting the distance between them and kissing his lips. That made him open his eyes and return to the real world, all shaken up and blushed. Night had already fallen over the camp and everyone was asleep. He felt Akers’ breathing on his neck and realized he was almost sleeping on him, probably feeling guilty for their argument. He turned to the other side to push those thoughts away and focus on the deliciousness with a touch of guilt of his dream and felt his heart skip a beat. Junre was sleeping peacefully next to him, unaware of the mess that was going on in his head. And suddenly, he felt calm. Everything else felt as if it had been placed aside and all that existed was the beautiful Death Knight and the realization that he was starting to have feelings for him. Feelings he hadn’t felt in a while: romantic ones.


End file.
